Love in Motion Round 2
by The Feisty Rogue
Summary: Pairing Challenge: 1. Het: Harry/Ginny 2. Fem: Lily/Narcissa 3. Slash: Seamus/Dean 4. Triad: James/Sirius/Remus 5. Cross-Gen: Hermione/Severus 6. Marauder: Amelia/John 7. Trio: Charlie/Draco 8. Next-Gen: Scorpius/Rose 9. Crack: Cedric/Myrtle 10. Family: Molly/Fred
1. A Red Rose

Het: Harry/Ginny

* * *

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)

Treasure Hunt – "Just go to sleep, he's not thinking of you,"

 **A Red Rose**

* * *

"I wonder what he's thinking of," Ginny murmured, leaning out her dorm window. The quidditch pitch was lit only from the light of the moon, but she could clearly see someone gracefully zooming about. It was Harry, of course, because she'd never seen anyone as fearless, or free when flying.

"Just go to sleep, he's not thinking of you," Jessica growled. "You're keeping the rest of us up."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "It's not like he's thinking of you either." Jessica had greasy brown hair and a monobrow. She wasn't competition, at least not to Ginny's mind.

Jessica huffed, even as Evie snorted with laughter.

"I thought you were dating Dean now, anyway," Evie said.

Ginny sighed as she watched Harry dive, his feet skimming the grass before he pulled up, barrel-rolling away. If she closed her eyes and listened closely, she thought she could hear his delighted laughter.

"Dean's nice enough." She turned back to them, pulling a face.

Evie scoffed, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder. "Nice enough? Ginny – he's the hottest boy in their year."

"That's Blaise Zabini," Patricia argued, poking her head out from under the duvet. "Or maybe even Ernie?"

"They're both a damn sight better than anyone our age," Maria piped up.

"Hear, hear," Ginny agreed, before turning back to the window. Harry had disappeared, and she frowned. Then, a blurred shape rocketed toward her, pulling sharply to a stop just before the window.

It was Harry. His hair was windswept, a bird's nest if she'd ever seen once, and his breath fogged with the cold outside of the castle. In his hand was a red rose.

"I thought that was you, up here," Harry said, his eyes gleaming behind his glasses. "And I don't know what came over me, but I just – here – it's for you."

She took the rose. It smelled sweet, and she thought she might faint, her heart beat so quickly. Seized with perhaps the same impulse that had drawn him up here, she leaned forward and yanked him close, pressing her lips to his. They kissed, and she forget thoughts of Dean, or Blaise or Ernie, so enthralled was she by the minty cool taste of him, and the feel of his mouth against hers.

Eventually, he pulled back, licking his lips before grinning. "See you tomorrow, Gin," he said, and blew away on his broomstick.

Ginny turned back to a silent room. Every single girl was staring at her in awe.

"I guess he was thinking of me, after all," she said, and smirked, before finally getting into bed.

The rose, she placed on her nightstand, and it was the last thing she saw before she fell asleep.


	2. Special

Fem: Lily/Narcissa

* * *

"Slytherin!" the hat announced, and Lily beamed, running over to Slytherin table, ignoring the strange stares. She was soon joined by Severus, who looked astounded to see her there.

"How did you persuade the hat?" he hissed.

Lily frowned. "I didn't. It said that I'm a born Slytherin, and that anyone who can speak to snakes ought to belong to the house of serpents."

Severus' jaw dropped, but Lily didn't get what was so shocking.

Someone cleared their throat beside her. "Excuse me, Miss Evans, was it?"

Lily turned to meet the prettiest girl she'd ever seen. She was obviously a few years older, and had long blonde hair, and steel blue eyes that glittered like diamonds.

"That's right. But you can call me Lily, if you like." She offered her hand to shake.

The girl inspected it, then drew it toward her, brushing her lips over Lily's knuckles. "I am Narcissa Black… but my friends call me Cissy."

Lily was blushing, and her skin tingled where Cissy had kissed it. "Does that mean we're friends?" she asked, suddenly impossibly shy.

Cissy arched a brow. "Indeed." She leaned closer, so that their sides were touching. "Now, my Lily, would you mind telling me about how you came to speak the noble language of the serpents? Or perhaps, even, a demonstration is in order?"

She turned to a boy with platinum blonde hair.

"Lucius, if you please."

The boy smiled, but it didn't reach his flat, bored gazed. "Serpensortia," he drawled, and from the end of his wand slithered a snake, probably dangerous, judging by the markings.

" _Prey, eat, kill,"_ the snake hissed.

Lily glanced warily at Cissy, but extended her hand. " _I will provide you with prey."_ She broke off a piece of chicken and offered it to the snake. The snake curled around her wrist and lunged for the chicken, snapping it out of her fingers. It swallowed in one gulp.

"W _armth, nest, safety."_

 _"Come, try nesting here."_ Lily draped the snake around her neck like she'd done with the adder in her garden. The snake settled, pushing its nose into the hollow of her neck.

 _Protect nest,"_ it hissed drowsily.

Lily stroked the scales of its tail, then glanced about curiously. Severus was pale, hand clapped over his mouth, while Lucius seemed to be warily impressed.

Cissy was smiling, and Lily's heart lit up with delight. "Oh Lily, darling, you're no mudblood, that's for sure." She turned and addressed the table, eyes narrowed. "After all, we all know who else boasted of this talent."

Cissy took Lily's hand in her own, and Lily squeezed it, happy to have been able to show off her gift, even if she didn't really understand what had happened.

"Stick with me," Cissy said. "And together, Lily, we can rule the world."

* * *

Later that night, Professor Slughorn summoned her to his office. He was sweaty and pale, and started upon seeing Kali wrapped about her neck.

"My dear, sit down, sit down. Now, I don't want you to worry. You're not in trouble."

Obediently, Lily took a seat, and eyed him warily.

"But, about that pet of yours. I understand the other Slytherins conjured her as a joke, and I'm afraid she has to go."

Lily blinked, furiously holding back her temper. Cissy had coached her on this, just an hour ago.

"She's not a pet, Professor, she's my familiar. I can communicate with her – see: _wake up, Kali."_

Slughorn flinched. "Miss Evans!" he snapped. "I don't know what nonsense your friends have been telling you, but you can't keep her!"

Kali blinked awake, licked Lily's neck, then closed her eyes back to sleep.

"It explicitly says in the Hogwart's Charter that a student may keep their familiars with them at all times, no matter what type of creature they are. Kali's perfectly safe, sir, I promise."

Slughorn groaned, massaging his temples. "Not again," he muttered. "Out with you, now."

Lily scarpered, relieved. Cissy was waiting for her just outside. "So?" she asked.

"I can keep him, I think," Lily said happily.

Cissy smiled, then leaned forward to kiss Lily's cheek. "That's wonderful, darling."

She turned, and lead the way back to the common room. Lily followed, dazed, and gently touched her fingers to her cheek. It was warm to touch, and she shivered. She'd never felt more special in her life.


	3. Delicious

Slash: Seamus/Dean

* * *

Seamus tried not to drool as he stared at the gorgeous gym instructor that was holding his spinning class. A droplet of sweat trickled from the hollow of his neck down his chocolate brown skin until it was soaked up in the fabric of vest top – the white fabric so thin he might as well have not been wearing it at all. Seamus could see the outline of each individual ab. What a dish. Seamus wanted to lick him all over, and then make him breakfast the following morning.

Oh Merlin, he thought, I'm in love, and me Ma is going to kill me if I don't at least try to speak to him.

"You know how to set up your bike?" the instructor asked. Seamus glanced at his name tag.

"Yes, delicious," he said. "Oh, I mean - yes, Dean! Shit, sorry, thank you." He was certain that he was flushed red from the tips of his ears all the way down to his toes.

Dean winked at him. "I'm glad to hear that." He mounted his bike, and Seamus bit back a moan at the sight of those well-muscled thighs. Seamus would happily spend the rest of his days as a saddle if Dean was the one that was sitting on him.

He hastily began peddling as Dean started the class, determined to be the best cyclist Dean had ever taught.

Forty minutes later, Seamus was dying. His legs were going to fall off, and his heart had pretty much given out. He was never going spinning again.

"Time to stretch out those muscles," Dean cheerfully called, and he wasn't even breathless, the gorgeous sod. Still, when he began bending over to stretch out his hamstrings, Seamus hastily got with the picture, and admired Dean's butt from under his lashes. There was certainly one part of Seamus' body that hadn't died a sorry death.

"Alright everybody, good job! See you again next week."

Seamus faffed with his water bottle while the other class members left, then made a beeline for Dean. It was now, or never.

"Would you like to get a drink with me?" he blurted out. "Me name's Seamus, by the way."

Dean looked up, and grinned. His eyes twinkled with amusement. "I was hoping you'd ask me," he said. "Yeah, sure."

Seamus' jaw dropped. "Really? I mean – great! Tonight? Nine, at the Spoons in town?"

"It's a date." Dean winked again. "See you later."

Seamus beamed. Perhaps spinning hadn't been all that bad.


	4. Spider!

Triad: James/Sirius/Remus

* * *

Submission for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)

Assignment #2: Transfiguration Task: write about a person who unnecessarily worries too much about a certain situation that turns out fine in the end.

Extra prompts:

(Colour) peach (Genre) fluff (action) giggle

Thrift Shop Item: a mug that reads 'Number One Jogger'

 **Spider!**

* * *

James fluffed up a pillow, the covers a horrendous peach that he resolved to remedy as soon as he could think his way around his wand. Peter had gifted them, and James half thought they'd been a prank, as they clashed horribly with the Gryffindor red curtains Sirius had somehow managed to acquire. At least their bedroom was cosy, with cream walls and four-poster bed large enough for three.

"Morning," Sirius said, far too cheerfully, and handed him his cuppa. The mug read 'Number One -Jogger- Prancer', the correction scrawled in Sirius' chicken scratch.

"I hate you, just a little," James said, but he took the mug of tea and sipped at it.

"Naw, Prongsy, you know you love it," Sirius replied. "I bought it just for you."

Remus chose that moment to surface. "What the fuck is your problem? It's barely eight. Go the fuck back to sleep." Then he burrowed back into the covers, and snored, loudly and pointedly.

James and Sirius exchanged a look of fond amusement, and then Sirius waved his hand in the universal gesture of budge up. James shuffled along so that Sirius could slide in beside him, coffee in one hand.

They sat for a while in serendipity, sipping their respective drinks, but James knew it wouldn't last.

"Ow!" Sirius cried, and pouted. He'd 'accidentally' spilt coffee on his crotch. "Kiss it better?"

James arched a sceptical brow. "Dream on, Pads. Maybe in the shower."

Sirius huffed, but his grin suggested that he found that idea to be palatable. James smiled back, and leaned against the headboard, resting his eyes for a moment.

When he opened them, he dropped his mug, and screamed.

"Spider!" he shrieked, and tumbled out of bed, scrambling out of the room. Sirius and Remus weren't far behind him.

"Oh Merlin, it was enormous," Sirius moaned.

"Fucking fuck spiders," Remus said, obviously not entirely awake. James stared warily at the door to the bedroom.

The spider crawled out of it.

"Aah!" they yelled, and, Sirius leading the way, ran out onto the lawn.

"Fuck," Remus said, shaking himself. "Do you think it was there while we were sleeping?"

James blanched. "Oh, why did you have to say that?"

"What are we going to do?" Sirius bemoaned. "I'm never going in there again."

"Kill it with fire?" Remus suggested, looking dangerously eager.

"Anybody got their wand?" After a beat of silence, they all groaned. James ruffled a hand through his hair, and tried to think.

"I know – I'll get Lily," he said, then winced. "She's good with creepy crawlies."

"Lily, your ex-girfriend Lily, that Lily?" Sirius said dangerously. Remus cuffed him on the head.

"Don't be a twat. James has learnt the error of his ways. Lily is no longer the flower of his heart."

"I think last night I showed I'm much more interested in mowing your-"

"GRASS!" Remus interrupted. "Gentlemen, we have an audience."

"Are you alright, dearies?" Mrs Brown, the little old lady from down the lane, was peering over the fence. Abruptly, James felt very aware of the fact that all three of them were only in their boxers.

"Err… yes?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "We're having a bit of a spider problem."

"Oh, is that all? Would you like me to come in and get rid of it for you?"

The three men exchanged a look. James wondered if his masculinity was worth braving the spider once more.

"Nope. I've got it under control," Sirius growled, and marched into the house. Moments later there was the sound of a madly barking dog running wildly about the rooms. Remus giggled, before clapping a hand over his mouth in mortification.

"I didn't know you had a dog," Mrs Brown said, peering interestedly toward the entrance of the house.

"We're looking after it for a friend," James said.

Mrs Brown winked and tapped the side of her nose. "If you say so. Tenancy agreements can be quite strict, can't they?"

James bit back the urge to say the house was his. After all, no normal 'single' man lived with two other friends if he had the money to afford his own property.

"I best be off. You three have a good morning now." Mrs Brown winked again, then toddled away.

Sirius marched back out of the house. In his hands was James' new mug, a piece of parchment over the rim of it. He jogged to the edge of the garden, where it bordered on a forest, and chucked the mug and parchment as far away from him as possible.

"Ha!" he cried, and lit the parchment on fire where it drifted in the breeze with a flick of his wand.

"Sirius," Remus hissed, glancing about. "What if a muggle saw?"

Sirius, seemingly oblivious, levitated the mug, before blasting it to smithereens. "Got to set an example to all the other spiders," he said.

James couldn't help it. He began to chuckle. Soon, Remus had joined him, and Sirius turned to them with a wicked grin.

"The next arachnid to set a foot in our house will face the wrath of Sirius… Orion… ACK!"

Remus had conjured a rubber spider, and it fell onto Sirius' head.

"Cruel, Moony, that was just cruel!"

"Come on, our brave saviour. I'm going back to bed." Remus yawned, reminding them that he rarely woke before midday on the weekends.

James followed, and called over his shoulder. "If you hurry, maybe I'll kiss it better!"

Sirius yelped in delight. "I'm coming!"

"You will be!" James grinned to himself, and snuggled back into bed with Remus, who was already asleep. Sirius bounded in, and curled up beside him, peppering James with sloppy kisses like the dog he was. James smiled against his mouth, and couldn't be happier.


	5. The Course of History

Cross-Gen: Hermione/Severus

* * *

Submission for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)

Assignment #2 Charms: Spell Classification Task 1: Write a story in which the number 7 plays an important role.

 **The Course of History**

* * *

Seven turns. Exactly seven years back. Her calculations were perfect, she was sure. It all boiled down to the day that Severus Snape had died, the day that Voldemort had taken Hogwarts, and the day that the Light had fallen.

Hermione gripped her wand in her hand, and twisted the butchered time turner around her neck with the other.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

She hissed as agony rippled through her body, and then everything went dark.

Screams awoke her, and Hermione gasped, scrambling to her feet. She was in the Forbidden Forest, and only meters away she could hear a Death Eater torturing a student. She crept closer.

A Hufflepuff sobbed as Dolohov stood over her, a manic grin upon his face.

She cast a silent cutting curse. His head separated from his body, and dropped to the floor, and the Hufflepuff moaned and crawled away from it. Hermione smiled, vindicated, and set off in the direction of the Shrieking Shack. It was not yet midnight – Severus Snape was still alive.

Disillusioned, she followed her younger self, Harry and Ron down the path from the Whomping Willow. They were under the cloak, but had not silenced their footsteps, and it was child's play to pace behind them.

She listened, for the second time, as Voldemort justified murdering Snape for the control of the Elder Wand, needless, when she knew that Harry was the true master. The time came – the snake attacked, and Snape began to die. The moment Voldemort left, she burst into action.

She stunned the 'Golden Trio' before her and sprinted into the shack. Forcing potions down Snape's, throat she began singing over his wound.

"Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur…"

Slowly the wound began to heal. She siphoned out Nagini's venom onto the floor, and fed him more potions, blood replenishers, antivenins and antiseptics.

He gasped awake and stared at her in horror.

"What have you done?" he accused.

She kept her wand on him. "In seven years' time, Harry will have lost his mind to the Cruciatus, Ronald will be dead, and I will be leading the resistance against Him. There is nothing that I would not do to ensure that future does not become a reality once more. Tell me why I've just saved you."

Black eyes stared dully at her, before looking away. Snape touched the side of his neck, and grimaced.

"When the Dark Lord threatened Lily Potter's life, it broke me, as I had loved her for years. I went to Dumbledore, and begged for her to be saved. In return, I became a spy, and have been for seventeen years, protecting her child. I am, and have ever been, to this day, Dumbledore's man."

Hermione watched him silently, contemplating his words. She lowered her wand, then nodded for him to go on.

"Potter is a horcrux," he spat. "The Dark Lord _must_ kill him, in order to become mortal once more. Dumbledore has raised him like a pig to slaughter."

Hermione kept her face blank, while internally she screamed at the cruel unfairness of life. "Very well," she said, proud to note her voice had not broken. "What proof do you have that can be given to Harry?"

Snape eyed her with a mixture of horror and grudging respect. Silently, he conjured a crystal bottle, and withdrew a stream of memories from his mind.

Hermione stared for a moment at the silver liquid, wondering if this was all that had been needed to have been done in order to change the future. Then she strode into the tunnel, and began altering the memories of Harry, Ron and herself, pushing the bottle into Harry's hand. They would think that they had collected the memories from Snape in his dying breath.

Snape was waiting for her when she returned, and eyed her warily.

"What foul magic did you perform, in order to alter the course of history?" he asked quietly.

Hermione sneered at him. "The worst." She extended her arm. "Let's go."

She apparated them to a hill overlooking Hogwarts. The battle had fallen silent, the defenders given an hour's grace to gather themselves, and Harry given an hour to sacrifice himself to Voldemort. She looked at Snape. He looked like he'd been drowning, and hadn't expected to ever surface.

Hermione extended her hand. He glanced at it, then at her, and then, with a wry twist of his lips, he slipped his hand into hers.

No words passed between them, two veterans of a war that had taken so much. They watched as the sun rose over Hogwarts, and the castle did not go up in flames as it had in Hermione's memories. Instead, there were fireworks bursting into bright colours in the sky, patronus messengers disappearing into the wind, and faintly she could hear cheers of celebration.

"We've won," she said, in wondrous astonishment, and for the first time in seven years, she smiled.

"What now?" Snape said, sounding as lost as she felt.

She stood, drawing him up with her, refusing to relinquish his hand. She gazed at him, and saw understanding, and peace in his eyes.

"Whatever it is," she whispered. "We'll do it together."


	6. Chapter 6

Marauder: Amelia/John


	7. The One

Trio: Charlie/Draco

* * *

Draco rubbed his hands together, then against his robes in an attempt to stop them from sweating. He was sure he was already dreadfully pale with nerves, and they'd not even stepped through the floo yet.

"You'll be fine," Charlie said, but he was equally as pale. Draco wasn't reassured, not one bit.

Taking what he hoped would be a deep, calming breath, he took a handful of power and tossed in the flames. "The Burrow," he called, and stepped into the fireplace.

He stumbled out the other side, an embarrassing performance, considering how many years he'd been flooing for. Potter was there, and smirked as Draco brushed ash off of his robes. Charlie tumbled out behind him, and Draco only just managed to step out of the way.

"I hate flooing," Potter said, but he didn't seem all that sympathetic.

Charlie stepped close, and took Draco's hand. "Mum, Dad… I want you to meet Draco. My boyfriend."

Draco turned, and realised with mounting horror, that he'd completely failed to realise that Charlie's parents were in the room as well.

"Mr and Mrs Weasley," he said. "Thank you for having me." He shoved the bottle of wine in his other hand in their direction. Mrs Weasley eyed it critically, and then took it with a brittle smile.

"We're glad to have you here," she said, seeming anything but.

"Well isn't this just great!" Charlie said, his voice pitched high. "Have a seat, Draco."

Unfortunately, the only available seat seemed to be next to Bill, Charlie's older brother. Draco sat, regardless.

Bill was grinning. "Is it true that you're studying to become a healer?"

Draco nodded stiffly. "That's correct. You ward break for Gringotts?"

"Oh yeah, and let me tell you, goblins are a right nightmare to work with. Almost as bad as dragons, I reckon, 'cept if they want to kill you it'll be a dagger in the back, instead of burning alive."

"Is that likely to happen?" Draco asked, mildly terrified by the thought of having to return to Gringotts with that knowledge. All of sudden, the grins that goblins would give him, revealing all of their sharp, pointy, teeth, took on a whole new meaning.

Bill chuckled. "Nah. You gotta do something really awful to piss them off like that."

"Like breaking into Gringotts, stealing something, and riding out on the back of a dragon?" Weasel – Ron – asked. He was grinning. "'Cos let me tell you, there were spears and all waiting for us when me and Harry went back there."

"Oh, shut up Ronniekins," Bill said. He grinned at Draco. "I'm sure you don't have to worry about it."

Somehow, the atmosphere in the room had lost its tension, and Charlie's parents seemed to be engaged in conversation with Potter, which Draco was glad for.

"You know, mum hated Fleur. _Hated_ her," Bill whispered conspiratorially. "For years. She's protective of us all, and only Harry gets away with dating Gin because she considers him one of us."

Draco smiled weakly. "Fleur wasn't a Malfoy, though, was she."

Bill shrugged. "In mum's eyes? Close enough. Half-veela, trying to tempt me into a wicked lifestyle of sex and sin, etcetera etcetera. Just grin and bear it. Charlie says you're the one for him, and I'm inclined to believe him, which means you can't be all that bad. If Charlie's the one for you, then just stick it out – it'll get better, I promise."

Draco glanced over at Charlie. He was discussing dragons with George, gesturing forcefully with his hands, acting out a scene from his work at the reserve. He was slightly flushed, his hair mussed, and his eyes were glowing with happiness. Draco swallowed.

"He's the one for me," he promised. Somehow, Charlie seemed to sense his gaze. He turned and grinned, and Draco's heart fluttered. He nodded as demurely as he could in return, and Charlie rolled his eyes.

Merlin, but he loved the man. Even if it meant putting up with his many siblings and disapproving parents. Charlie was it for him – the only one.


	8. Midnight Duel

Next-Gen: Scorpius/Rose

* * *

Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)

Treasure Hunt B4: (location) the Black Lake

 **Midnight Duel**

* * *

Rose arched a single brow, and dared Scorpius with her gaze.

"Midnight," Scorpius challenged her. "By the Black Lake."

"Oh, you're on, Malfoy," she drawled, and tried not to grin.

"Bring it, Weasley." Scorpius winked at her, then strode back to the Slytherin table in the Great Hall.

"Ha, as if he could take you!" Winifred muttered as they seated themselves for dinner. Rose chose a seat with line of sight to Scorpius, glad that Ravenclaw and Slytherin were next to each other.

"Oh, he can take me…" she murmured.

"What?"

"No way he can take me!" Rose said. She smirked as she caught Scorpius' eye, who seemed to be chatting a similar game to his mates, and licked her lips. She couldn't wait for the evening to come.

* * *

Rose lay against a boulder, softened by a cushioning charm, and amused herself by conjured multicoloured bubbles and conducting them into waltz as she hummed. Suddenly, all the bubbles popped, and she was showered with droplets of water all the colours of the rainbow. She narrowed her eyes, and glanced up.

"Rude," she remarked.

Scorpius collapsed into the grass beside her. "Ugh, you don't know how much trouble it is dissuading some of my mates from following and hiding so they could act as 'back up' for our duel."

Rose laughed. "My mates are all in bed, of course, goody-two-shoes that they are."

Scorpius turned to her, eyes twinkling. "Are you saying that you're not a good girl?"

Rose grinned, and shifted so that she was straddling his lap. "I'm very, very bad…" she stifled a giggle. "Imagine if our parents could see us now."

Scorpius' hands settled on her hips, pulling her close. Rose shivered, and tilted her neck, and he pressed his lips along her pulse, treating her to light, teasing kisses. "Let's not talk about our parents," Scorpius murmured.

Rose traced his biceps through his robes before twining her fingers in his hair, directing his mouth to hers. "Let's not," she agreed, and happily lost herself in the feel of Scorpius' body moving against her own.


	9. A Crush

Crack: Cedric/Myrtle

* * *

"Her eyes are silver like the moon," Cedric praised, gazing into the distance. Mark frowned when he realised who Cedric was panting after, and then grimaced. He grabbed Cedric by the elbow.

"Right. That's it. Come on mate. Let's go see Madam Pomphrey."

"And she's so light on her feet. It's almost as if she never touches the ground."

"That's a surprise," Mark muttered. "Seeing as she's a _ghost_ …"

Cedric turned to him. "Don't you say a single bad word against her!"

Mark held up his hands in surrender. "Mum's the word. Now, come on. Pomphrey's waiting." Cedric was happily led.

"Her voice is like a choir of angels, and her smile is like the sun!"

"Have you been reading Shakespeare?" Mark accused. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and didn't bother to knock on the door to the hospital wing before bursting in. Madam Pomphrey was in her office, and bustled out with a frown upon her face when she saw them.

"What's the matter then, boys?" she asked, glancing between them.

"Tell her," Mark said. Cedric beamed.

"She's just so beautiful!" he exclaimed.

Mark turned to Madam Pomphrey. "He's talking about Myrtle. _Moaning_ Myrtle," he whispered conspiratorially.

"Of course I am. Who did you think I was talking about?" Cedric hissed.

Madam Pomphrey seemed to be hiding a smile behind her hand. "Ah, there's always one. Nothing to worry about my dears. I believe Mr Diggory has been inflicted with a common illness."

"What is it?" Mark asked eagerly, desperate for a solution.

"A crush."

Mark stared at her. "You're joking, right."

"I'm afraid not. The only side effects will be immense embarrassment, and the tendency to hide in one's dorm room once one gets over it," Madam Pomphrey said. She was definitely smiling. It was, in fact, a grin.

"No!" Mark groaned. "I don't believe it. Will you check him, just in case?"

Madam Pomphrey flicked her wand. Cedric glowed green, indicating perfect health.

They both turned to him, and fixed him with a smug look.

"And there you have it. Now, away with the pair of you."

"I think I'll go confess my love," Cedric said dreamily. Mark stared at him in horror as he walked away, then raced after him.

"No Ced, that's a really bad idea!"

Unfortunately, Cedric didn't listen to him."

* * *

"Cedric Diggory? Wasn't he the one that proposed to Moaning Myrtle?" Ron asked. Fred and George nodded in unison. "Oh no – and we've got to share a portkey with him?"

"Mad," Harry said, shaking his head. "He must be utterly mad."


	10. Not Fair

Family: Molly/Fred

* * *

Fred was more confident than George, always the one to speak first or to make the ruder jokes. He preferred potions, while George was the whiz at Charms, and both were brilliant at transfiguration. Fred also had a freckle just in the crease of his left eye, that George had been missing. Molly had always been able to tell them apart, although she let them have their fun.

She was staring at that freckle now. It seemed safe, to be staring at Fred's freckle, when the rest of him was covered in dirt and blood and soot, and his eyes were blank, no longer filled with mirth. Safer, even, than looking at George, who was now forever to be missing his mirror. Safer than looking at the devastation on any of her children's face, or the horror on Arthur's.

She was distantly aware of somebody sobbing, and vaguely acknowledged that somebody was she. Tears trickled down her face as she clung to Fred's still warm corpse, and a comforting arm was wrapped about her waist. But Molly couldn't look away from that freckle on Fred's face, no longer hidden by the crinkle of his eyes as he grinned after getting away with a clever trick. His eyes would never crinkle again.

Her precious baby would never smile and laugh at his twin as they pranked their siblings, never frown with worry at the newspaper as the death toll rose, never smirk as he made her jump by appearing out of thin air. He was dead and always would be, and it was impossible, inconceivable, intolerable, but it was true.

Life, Molly was aware, wasn't fair. She'd realised that the day her brothers had died. Had she cursed Fred by naming him after Gideon? Had she cursed Fred by joining the Order of the Phoenix. Had she cursed Fred the very day he'd been born into a war?

Life wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair.


End file.
